


The refrain of your lips on my skin

by warqueenfuriosa (orphan_account)



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Break Up, Developing Relationship, Drama, F/F, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Romance, Social Anxiety, Sweet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:27:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22906207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/warqueenfuriosa
Summary: Helena Bertinelli wasn’t looking for a relationship. Intimacy is a foreign concept she can’t grasp, let alone follow through. Alcohol, however, she understands perfectly.Which is how she lands a job slinging drinks at Harley Quinn’s new club, Glitterbomb. It’s more of a social gig than Helena is used to but the pay is good and she doesn’t have to play nice.Then everything goes haywire when Harley’s singer, Dinah Lance, flirts with her. For the first time in her life, Helena’s characteristic ‘fuck off’ doesn’t come. Instead, she’s flustered and maybe a little eager for more of Dinah’s attention.Is this…attraction? And what is she supposed to do about it now?
Relationships: Dinah Lance & Harleen Quinzel, Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Comments: 66
Kudos: 209





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, Birds of Prey swept me off my feet iN A HEARTBEAT. I WOULD SELL MY SOUL FOR THESE FLAWLESS LADIES!!!!
> 
> This is my first time writing w/w, so suggestions, pointers, etc. are very welcome (but please be gentle!). Hope you like it and feel free to drop by tumblr and say hello! @warqueenfuriosa-ao3

* * *

Every Saturday night, Glitterbomb was full to bursting. Strobing neon lights rendered the dance floor a blur of electric green and neon pink. The sticky smell of booze mingled with the sharp scent of cigarettes, perfume gone sour, and sweat. A deafening bass beat shuddered through every surface.

Helena remained tucked behind the bar, grateful for the solid swath of wood separating her from the pulsing bodies writhing to the music.

 _I don’t do people,_ she had said when Harley offered her the job.

Harley had shrugged. _Don’t give a shit who you do or don’t do, sugar pie. You make a mean cosmo. That’s all I care about._

The money was more than generous, and her paycheck didn’t rely on a customer service smile – something Helena had never been able to feign. It beat the hell out of getting fired from one waitress gig after another.

But sometimes, Helena watched all those people in Harley’s club and a stab of loneliness settled in her chest. Why did it always feel like she was on the outside looking in?

Harley would tell her she didn’t need an invitation. Jump in. Make friends. Glitterbomb was a playground for everyone.

It wasn’t that simple. Not for Helena.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

She turned her head. A man leaned against the counter, arms folded with a shit-eating grin on his face. White polo shirt stretched across broad shoulders. Teeth too-white. Fake tan settling dangerously close to an unpleasant shade of orange. _Douche_ might as well have been tattooed on his forehead.

“Fetch me a beer and serve it with a pretty little smile, would you?”

Helena stared at him, dead pan. No smile. Teeth grinding. She fished a lukewarm, half empty beer from the trash and upended it. Alcohol pooled on the bar. The man jumped back, beer staining his pristine polo shirt.

“Call me that again and I’ll ram the bottle down your throat,” she said.

The man scoffed in disbelief. “You need to learn some manners, bitch.”

Helena lunged for him, fist cocked back. But she never got to swing.

Dinah Lance slipped out of the crowd, grabbed the back of that white polo shirt, and rammed her knee into the douche's groin. He doubled over, face contorted and flushed with pain. She threaded her fingers through his hair, yanking his head up.

“Better not kiss your mama with that mouth,” she said.

As Harley’s favorite singer, Dinah rarely – if ever – occupied the ground floor of Glitterbomb. The stage was her domain, well above the mayhem. Or she took refuge behind the scenes. She certainly never got her hands dirty like this.

“Time for you to leave,” Dinah said. The douche was still bent at the waist, gasping for breath. “Before Harley finds out you’ve been less than courteous to one of her girls.”

The man mumbled something Helena didn’t catch. Dinah’s jaw twitched. She hauled him by the elbow through the crowd and out the door.

A minute later, she returned, taking a seat on a bar stool.

“Are you okay?” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the music.

Helena wanted to say thank you. She wanted to ask what Dinah was doing among the masses when she had her own private sanctuary of solitude in the back.

Instead, she said, “I had it under control.”

Dinah raised her hands in surrender. A dozen golden rings spanned her fingers, glinting under the strobe lights.

“I know, I know.” She lifted one shoulder in a coy half-shrug. “But maybe I was looking for an excuse to say hello.”

Helena frowned. “Why do you need an excuse?”

Dinah raised her eyebrows slightly, an amused glint in her gaze. It only made Helena confused and irritated. Had she missed a joke somewhere along the way?

“Look, if all you’re gonna do is laugh at my expense, you can piss off,” Helena said.

Dinah propped her elbow on the bar, resting her chin in her hand. Rather than recoil at Helena’s sharp tone, she was settling in, undaunted by Helena’s bark or bite. Showing no indication of going anywhere.

“You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” Dinah said.

_Oh._

Helena sputtered, suddenly tongue-tied now that she realized Dinah was flirting with her. But it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. She just…didn’t know what to do about it. Or how to respond.

As Helena struggled to come up with a reply, a slow smile spread across Dinah’s face.

“You’re blushing,” she said.

“I am _not_ ,” Helena snapped. Her face was definitely too warm though, and not because of booze or the packed club.

Dinah squinted one eye shut and held up two fingers in a pinch gesture.

“A little bit.”

Helena huffed and crossed her arms. “What do you want?”

“A drink.”

Helena gestured to the array of bottles behind her. “Take your pick.”

“With you,” Dinah added.

Her voice was so low, Helena hadn’t heard the words. But she’d seen the shape of them on Dinah’s lips. Unmistakable. Perfect.

Helena gulped. Her arms dropped to her sides. She shifted in place, trying not to fidget and failing miserably. She turned her back on Dinah, bowing her head with a deep breath. Why did it feel as if her stomach had just flipped like a pancake? Her hands trembled and a bead of sweat slithered down her spine.

She didn’t know how to do… _this_. Any of it. Flirt. Be charming. Likable. She had all the tact and sensitivity of a brick to the face.

And Dinah…

Dinah was breathtaking. Dark smokey eyeliner, full lips, long hair swept over one shoulder. A black sequin halter top, coupled with several loose, dangling gold necklaces accented her cleavage. This was a woman comfortable with the spotlight, with being the object of attention, and she knew how to work every angle, every second in the public eye to get what she wanted.

Then again, maybe Helena was reading the whole situation wrong. Dinah was always smooth and confident with everyone she met. Why would Helena be anything special? Besides, she had no experience with attraction of any kind. Those measly one-liners flung in her direction by drunk men didn’t count.

Helena turned around, grappling her composure under control again. She filled two shot glasses and set one on the bar in front of Dinah.

“Down the hatch,” she said.

Dinah watched her over the rim of her glass as she tossed it back. Helena gulped her own shot, welcoming the burn that took the edge off of her racing thoughts. Dinah set her empty glass upside down on the bar and flicked her gaze up to Helena. Slowly, she dragged her tongue along her bottom lip.

Helena forgot how to breathe. She leaned back until she bumped against the shelf of alcohol behind her.

When men looked at her like that, she flipped them off.

When Dinah looked at her like that, every inch of her body sizzled.

“There you are!”

Harley stumbled up to Dinah, eyes glazed with alcohol, purple lipstick smudged. She flung an arm around Dinah’s shoulder.

"What are you _doing_ down here?" she demanded, slurred. "Show starts in five minutes."

Dinah glanced at Helena. “I got distracted.”

 _Shit, shit, shit,_ Helena thought. She gathered the shot glasses, busying herself with wiping down the counter as long as she avoided Dinah’s gaze.

Most people barely made eye contact with Helena, ducking the snarls, insults, and profanities she hurled like missiles. But Dinah stared at her with a slow blink and a long, steady look.

Helena fumbled a glass. She nearly dropped it then shoved it onto the counter with a short exhale of relief.

“Well, you gotta focus,” Harley said, steering Dinah off of the bar stool. “I’m paying you big bucks to belt your heart out. And I want to dance my ass off tonight. So, hurry up.”

Harley herded Dinah through the crowd toward the back stage. Dinah cast one final glance over her shoulder at Helena before she disappeared around the corner.

When Dinah was out of sight, Helena braced her hands on the counter, releasing a puff of air in disbelief. Her heart pounded so hard and fast it made her chest ache. No one had ever made her feel so rattled, so _buzzed_ on adrenaline like that before.

“What the _FUCK_ just happened?” she croaked.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I am AMAZED and shell-shocked at the amount of love that has been poured out for this fic already??? Your kind words of encouragement and enthusiasm are so appreciated and you put a huge smile on my face! ♥ So here's more of Helena being an awkward disaster absolutely head over heels in love with our goddess Dinah. Hope you like it and happy reading! xoxo

By sunrise, Glitterbomb had transformed into an entirely different landscape.

Empty glasses littered every table. The scent of stale cigarettes and sex hung in the air. Rainbow glitter clung to every available surface like colorful germs, contaminating everything.

A snore rumbled from a couch in the corner. Harley was fast asleep, her arm flung over her eyes. One lemon yellow heel was missing, exposing the bubblegum pink nail polish on her toes.

This was the only time Helena ventured out from behind the bar, when the club was deserted and the press of people had long since vanished. She drifted from one table to the next, clearing away abandoned cocktails and tequila. Balled up garbage and tossed it in the trash. Orbiting the periphery of humanity had always been her signature move. Watching from the outskirts but never part of the party.

A door closed, somewhere in the back of the club. Helena startled, surprised that someone else was still here. Then Dinah shuffled out from the hallway of dressing rooms. Her hair was looped into a messy bun, eyeliner smudged around her eyes and lipstick faded to a soft nude pink.

Last night came roaring back to Helena’s memory.

Dinah, on stage, head thrown back, tendons straining in her neck as she sang like her life depended on it. The sparkling gold gown, draped so perfectly over every inch of her, clinging to her breasts like water. Slit running clear up to her hip just to prove she was wearing nothing underneath.

Helena’s mouth had gone bone dry. She’d steeled herself with a shot of vodka.

 _Alcohol,_ she thought. _It’s just the alcohol talking. Come morning and a clear head, whatever the fuck this is will be over._

Except Dinah was here now and Helena’s head wasn’t feeling very clear. As Dinah made her way over to the bar, she spotted Helena standing there. She raised her eyebrows and that slow smile came over her face again. Helena’s stomach flip-flopped like a fish out of water.

_Goddamn it._

Dinah slid her hand across the bar’s counter as she made her way to Helena. She stopped and leaned back against the table Helena had been wiping down.

It was different, being around Dinah now, compared to last night. The headrush was still there at full speed. Sweaty palms. Skyrocketing heartbeat.

But there was no thumping music smothering conversation and awkward silences. There was no bar separating them, granting Helena refuge from the expectations of socializing like a normal human being.

Last night felt like nothing more than a shooting star. Blazing as it passed. Burning bright and glorious, but temporary. Too hot, too fast to last longer than a minute.

This morning was quieter. Closer. Intimate in a way that Helena had never navigated in her life and it left her skittish.

Dinah had exchanged the gold dress for a short, cream-colored silk robe. Very short. And barely tied at the waist, revealing a dark purple slip underneath, edged in black lace.

Helena curled her fingers into her dirty rag. All she could think about was trailing her hands up Dinah’s legs. Sliding past the thin little hem of silk that barely covered anything.

“Good morning,” Dinah said. Her voice hoarse, still thick with lingering sleep.

“Hey. Um, hi. I mean, yeah, good morning.”

Mortification burned a fierce swath up Helena’s neck, igniting in her face. _Idiot,_ she thought. _Get a grip._ She’d never been particularly good with people, but she didn’t usually bumble like this.

Dinah stretched her legs out – _Jesus Christ, I need a drink_ – and crossed her ankles. She leaned back on her hands and tilted her head.

“I didn’t catch your name last night,” she said. “Harley mentioned we had a new bartender but I haven’t had the chance to properly introduce myself. I’m Dinah.”

“I know.”

Dinah blinked and her expression cooled.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why did I say that? What the fuck is wrong with me?!_

Helena put out her hands, scrambling to back track.

“I meant that I got your name from the…” She gestured toward the stage. “The whole singing gig. Which you did really well, by the way.”

Helena coughed. Cleared her throat. She was making this worse. So, so much worse. She moved to the next table and dropped her rag on the surface with a vicious smack before she started scrubbing furiously.

“So…” Dinah said. “You were watching me.”

Helena whirled.

“No! God, no, not like I’m a creepy stalker or anything. Which I’m not.”

Dinah bowed her head with a soft laugh. Her robe shifted, sliding off of one shoulder. Taking the thin strap of her slip with it.

Helena’s gaze dropped to Dinah’s bare shoulder, glitter lingering like gold dust. She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting to quell the thoughts of pressing her lips to Dinah’s smooth warm skin. Dragging her tongue up, oh so slowly, to Dinah’s throat until she found the shiver of Dinah’s pulse.

“You know…” Dinah started as she pushed away from the table. She edged closer to Helena and skimmed her fingers up the inside of Helena’s wrist.

Helena’s breath hitched. The pressure of Dinah’s fingertips was nothing more than a butterfly’s wing but it punched all the air out of her lungs like a kick to the solar plexus.

Dinah kept her gaze down, focusing on the route of her fingers gliding along Helena’s forearm.

“…when you get all tongue-tied,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s so obvious you’re more of an action girl.”

Then Dinah’s knuckles brushed the crook of Helena’s elbow and she slewed her gaze up to meet Helena’s eyes.

_Oh no. Fuck me._

She could smell the lingering scent of mojitos on Dinah’s breath, intoxicating and _right there_. Sharp mint and tangy citrus. The burn of alcohol softened by the sweetness of sugar. Close enough to kiss.

Helena stumbled back. Bumped against the table. She put out a hand to steady herself and sidled around until the table was between her and Dinah. Barricaded once more.

“I – I have to go,” Helena said.

Dinah looked bewildered as Helena made for the door just shy of a sprint. But before she could escape, the door burst open and Glitterbomb’s bouncer, Renee Montoya pushed in, carting plastic bags on each arm. She shoved a stack of takeout containers into Helena’s hands.

“Breakfast!” she called. “Come and get it!”

A whirl of activity kicked up around the bar. As Renee and Helena set the food on the counter, Dinah began opening containers and boxes, sniffing some, taking a sample pinch from others. The smell of greasy food filled the air, making Helena’s stomach rumble.

“You’re a lifesaver, Montoya,” Dinah said, punctuating her statement with a lazy wave of a bacon strip.

“I saw how much booze was bein’ passed around in here last night,” Renee replied. “Knew you’d need a heavy-duty pick-me-up.”

Over on the couch, Harley shifted with a sleepy, incoherent mumble. She curled up on her side, arm slumped over the edge of the couch.

“From the looks of it, I was bang on the money, too,” Renee added. She crossed the room and took Harley by the wrists, pulling her into a sitting position. “Up and at ‘em, crazy cakes.”

“I’m not crazy,” Harley muttered. “Smart as a pin.”

“It’s sharp as a tack, sweetheart.”

Harley’s eyes fluttered open and a hazy grin spread across her face.

“Do I smell Sal’s?”

“The one and only.”

She yawned and flung an arm around Renee’s shoulders. They stumbled their way back to the bar but as Renee eased her onto a stool, Harley slid right off.

Straight into Dinah’s arms.

A pang of something sharp and bitter hit Helena in the chest. She took a step back toward the door She should have left sooner, before seeing… _that._

Harley purred a sloppy laugh and dropped her head on Dinah’s shoulder. Dinah patted Harley’s back, stroking a lock of hair out of Harley’s eyes. The gesture was so achingly comfortable and familiar.

They’d been in this position before. Close. Very close.

That pang grew to a sickening roil in the pit of Helena’s stomach. Ridiculous. _Stupid._ What difference did it make to her who Dinah cozied up with?

“…time izzit?” Harley slurred.

“Almost eight,” Renee replied, jabbing a fork into a mountain of scrambled eggs.

Harley sat bolt upright, rubbing at her eyes, smearing her mascara.

“Shit! The kid. I gotta—”

She took a step, wobbled. Her knees buckled and Dinah caught her elbow. Pulled her back to the bar stool.

“Sit,” she said. “You’re not fit to go anywhere.”

Harley groaned and dropped her head in her hands. Renee set down her fork and dusted her hands together.

“All right, time to get serious,” she said. “Let’s go. Shower. Now.”

Harley whined as Renee dragged her off the bar stool. “Do I have to?”

“You’ll feel better.”

“I just wanna sleep.”

“You can do that later.”

As Renee turned away, she dug out a set of keys from her pocket and glanced up. Her gaze fell on Helena.

“Hey, bartender.” She tossed the keys across the bar. Helena caught them. “Pick up the kid, would you?”

Helena spread her hands. “What kid? I don’t do kids.”

“In case you didn’t notice, I’ve kinda got my hands full and Dinah isn’t exactly dressed for going out. Besides, you work here, don’t you? Makes you part of the family. So, get your ass out there, pick up the kid, like I told you to. Take Harley’s car. Use her GPS if you don’t know where you’re going.”

Helena huffed and marched out of the club to the parking lot. She found the beat-up convertible at the back and climbed in, fumbling with the keys. Too many fobs to sort through—a baseball bat studded with plastic diamonds, a ping fluffy ball, a large gaudy metal J entwined with a queen of hearts playing card.

She finally found the key that got the engine lurching to a start. Then she began jabbing at the GPS in annoyance.

“Wasn’t hired to be a fucking babysitter,” she grumbled. “And where the hell am I supposed to get this kid anyway?”

The door of the club opened and Helena looked up. Dinah hurried across the parking lot, barefoot, arms crossed over her chest.

“Hey,” Dinah said, leaning over the passenger door to turn the GPS toward her. “Thought you could use a hand with directions. I totally forgot today is Monday. Otherwise I would have taken her myself. Sorry about the rush.”

She thumbed at the GPS for a second and turned it back to Helena.

“That’ll take you where you need to go. First Harley’s place. Then the school.”

“Thanks,” Helena replied.

Dinah retreated. Fidgeted. But she didn’t head back to the club. Not right away like Helena expected her to.

Instead, she stood there, shifting from one foot to the other. The wind teased at the hem of her robe and she tugged it down. She rubbed her arms against the chill of the morning. In this exposed area with no people, no music, no glitter and alcohol and hookups, just a beat-up car and barren asphalt and open skies, she looked a little softer, a little more vulnerable.

“I can save some breakfast for you,” she said, a careful venture, nothing like the bold flirtations from before. “If you want. For when you get back.”

That bitterness in Helena’s chest bloomed to something brighter, sweeter. Tentative. Afraid it would shatter if she dared to lean into it. But she allowed a small smile to peek out anyway.

“I’d like that.”


	3. Chapter 3

When Helena pulled up to Harley’s apartment building, there was a scowling girl sitting on the steps. Arms crossed. Bulging backpack resting at her feet. She kept tugging at the collar of her school uniform, buttoned up to the throat, as if it was choking her. The pleated green-and-blue plaid skirt she wore was starched and stiff, and her dark blue blazer was ironed smooth.

But her battered red converse sneakers screamed rebellion.

“Hey, are you Harley’s kid?” Helena called. “She sent me to pick you up. For school.”

“No,” the kid replied, even though she eyed the convertible with familiarity.

Helena draped her arm over the steering wheel.

“Huh,” she said. “So you’re just sitting out here. All by yourself. Almost late for school. Because…it’s fun?”

The kid shot her a scathing look that clearly said, _screw you_. She yanked her backpack over her shoulder as she stood and marched to the passenger side. She flung her backpack into the back seat, narrowly missing Helena’s head.

“Easy, tiger,” Helena protested. “Look, I’m not exactly happy about this either, okay? The sooner we get it over with, the better.”

“I’m not Harley’s kid. She’s my mentor. And a pretty shit one at that.”

“Hey,” Helena barked. “Watch your fucking language, kid.”

“You don’t even know my _name_ ,” the kid shot back, slouching into the passenger’s seat. She stomped her feet onto the dashboard.

Well. Helena couldn’t argue with that.

“Why didn’t she come herself, huh?” the kid pressed. “That’s what she signed up for. Part of her whole movement toward a new and improved Harley or whatever. I haven’t seen her in over a week.”

Helena hesitated, remembering the way Harley had stumbled and slurred. Mascara like dark bruises around her eyes. Lipstick smudged until she looked like a toddler who had raided her mother’s makeup.

“She was…busy,” Helena said at last.

The kid snorted. “Yeah, right. More like drunk off her ass. Again.”

Helena didn’t bother to reprimand the kid this time. There was enough sting and resentment in her tone, weighing her down already.

“So…what?” the kid continued. “Were you just some rando on the dance floor and Harley chucked her keys at you? Told you to fetch me?”

Helena hitched one shoulder up in a half-shrug. That was…uncomfortably close to the truth.

“Not quite. I’m the bartender.”

“Oh, as if that’s so much better.”

“You’re making this ten times harder than it has to be, you know that?”

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

“You’re damn right,” Helena said. “You don’t. But you’re going along with this. Because Harley put me in charge, okay?”

The kid’s chin jutted forward, her gaze firm and stubborn.

Helena groaned. “Jesus. Don’t make me pull the adult card. How old are you anyway? Ten?”

“I’m _twelve,_ ” the kid growled. “Now would you shut up already and just take me to school?”

Helena shook her head. “We’re not moving until you tell me your name.”

The kid stared at Helena for a full minute. Then a smug grin slowly crept across her face. She settled deeper into her seat.

“Awesome. I hate that school anyway. Bunch of stuck up rich kids.”

_Damn it. Should have known that would backfire._

Helena flicked at the lapel of the kid’s blazer.

“Seems like a fancy place to get you dressed up this way,” she said. “Bet it’s expensive. A lot of kids would kill to get into a school like that.”

The kid shrugged. “Do I look like I give a shit?"

Helena fixed the kid with a long, hard stare. The kid scratched at her collar. That uniform was stifling her. She had so much anger bundled into that small body, she was bursting at the seams. Firing off insults and obscenities in missile-like shots, attempting to alleviate the pressure. But the neatness of that uniform hinted at a life where anger was not a welcome trait to express.

 _Let the kid be angry,_ Helena thought. _Let her wave that rage like a red flag all she wanted._

“You have to go to school,” Helena said, putting the car into drive.

The kid’s jaw dropped open with a noise of betrayal. “You said I didn’t have to!”

“I said I wasn’t taking you until you told me your name.” Helena craned her neck over her shoulder, scanning the steady stream of oncoming traffic for an opening. “Changed my mind.”

Before Helena could stop her, the kid shoved her door open and was halfway out of the car in the blink of an eye. Helena swore and lunged, grabbing the back of her shirt collar. She hauled the kid into her seat.

“Shut the door,” Helena said.

The kid wriggled. She flung an elbow dangerously close to Helena’s face.

“Look at me!” Helena snapped.

The kid wrenched a dark glare over her shoulder. “ _What?”_

“I know you’re pissed,” Helena said. “Harley isn’t here. You have to deal with a total stranger. School is hell on earth. And I can’t imagine your home life is all that great since you’re stuck with me. Be mad all you want. You deserve it. But I’m taking you to school."

The kid blinked. She cast a sideways glance at Helena.

“Are you...trying to be _nice_?" she said. "Because you seriously suck at it."

Helena snorted a laugh. "I'm giving you a tip. To make things a little less shitty, all right?"

“Fine. But what does that have to do with going to school? Why can’t I just play hooky?”

“Because you’re going to do better than anyone expects you to. Pass your classes. Stick it out. Think of it as a big fuck you to everyone else, to show them that you don’t need them. You’ll succeed on your own terms.”

The kid considered, plucking at the hem of her starched skirt. She tilted her head with a discerning squint in Helena’s direction.

“Thought I was supposed to watch my language.”

Helena shrugged. “Fuck that.”

The kid grinned, nodding. “Yeah. Fuck that.”

Helena smiled and bumped her knuckles against the kid’s shoulders in a playful punch. “Atta girl.”

For the rest of the drive, the kid made no further attempts of escape. Despite their delayed start, Helena pulled up to the school’s entrance at eight o'clock on the dot. 

Helena blew out a breath at the sight of the school, severe straight lines of architecture, solid gray rock. Unyielding and unforgiving. She remembered her own private school days, the feeling of being out of place among hundreds of kids. The anger that had simmered in her chest every time she ate lunch alone or found FRIGID BITCH scrawled in permanent marker on her locker. It was easier to be angry rather than allowing the pang of loneliness to settle in.

The kid climbed out of the car, tugging her backpack over the seat.

“Hey,” Helena said.

The kid glanced at her, waiting.

“I’m Helena,” she said.

The kid thumbed her backpack strap over her shoulder. She shifted, scrubbing the top of her foot against the back of her calf. For a moment, she almost looked like she’d walk away without responding.

Then she said, “Cassandra. But I like Cass better.”

***

When Helena returned to Glitterbomb, the club was silent and dark. No sign of Renee, Harley, or Dinah. The remnants of breakfast had already been cleared away, containers piled in the trash can.

Except for one takeout box on the counter. A napkin was taped to the lid with a red lipstick kiss and a phone number.

Helena smiled and carefully folded it, tucking it away in her pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you thought, lovelies! I promise I don't bite and I really do love hearing your thoughts on each chapter, scenes, favorite lines, etc!  
> You can also hop into my inbox or DM me on tumblr @warqueenfuriosa-ao3 and say hello! ♥


	4. Chapter 4

Helena couldn’t make the call.

For two days, she traced Dinah’s number over the keypad of her phone. She didn’t even need the napkin anymore. The number had already burned into her memory. But she held the napkin anyway, looked at that bold red kiss mark on the flimsy paper.

Her thumb faltered at the dial button.

She sighed and tossed the phone on the counter. What would she _say_ anyway?

In the solitude of her apartment, with peeling paint curling away from the wall and dirty dishes piled in the sink, the flash-bang world of Glitterbomb and Dinah seemed more like a dream than reality. If she reached out to claim it, if she accepted Dinah’s offer, she wondered if she was grasping at nothing but smoke and mirrors.

Despite Helena’s misgivings, her gaze wandered back to her phone.

She wanted to sink into this. Whatever it was. She just…didn’t know how.

Nothing about Helena was inviting, from her scuffed-up combat boots to the heavy black eyeliner smudged around her eyes like war paint. And she barricaded herself. Behind the bar. Behind an unsmiling face that said _don’t fuck with me or I’ll hurt you_. Behind a solitary life and the plates of armor she forged from her loneliness.

But Dinah had blown right by Helena’s defenses. And Helena let her do it.

She stifled a noise of frustration and ruffled her hands through her hair. The gym. That’s what she needed. A few hours with a punching bag would clear her head and get her thinking straight again.

***

By the time Helena showed up for work, her knuckles were bruised black and blue, but she still felt tangled up in knots. The thought of seeing Dinah again at Glitterbomb did nothing to soothe her uneasiness.

One hour at the bar passed. Then another. No sign of Dinah.

Somewhere around midnight, Harley wobbled to the bar in hot pink heels and glow-in-the-dark lipstick. She held up her cocktail glass and tapped the rim with a hiccup.

“Hit me again.”

“A glass of water might do you good once in a while,” Helena said.

Harley propped her chin in her hand and wrinkled her nose. “You’re not my mother.”

“Thank God for that.”

Helena refilled Harley’s glass and set it in front of her. Harley grinned and wiggled her fingers before scooping it up in her hands as if it was a precious nugget of gold.

“Hey, uh…” Helena started, hoping she sounded more casual than she felt. “Have you seen Dinah?”

Harley puffed out her cheeks and squinted up at the ceiling in thought.

“Nope.”

Helena waited for more but Harley didn’t elaborate. Her attention was now entirely focused on her drink, licking her lips as she eagerly tipped the glass back.

“Have you ever thought about sobering up once in a while?” Helena said in a dry tone. “Cass would certainly appreciate it.”

At the mention of Cass’s name, Harley’s expression fell. She flicked a guilt-ridden glance up at Helena and sank even deeper into her glass.

“She’s a cool kid,” Helena continued. “Doesn’t deserve to be let down by someone she looks up to.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Harley gurgled, coughing into her drink. She swiped the back of her hand across her mouth and cast a sideways look at Helena. “Boy, you really like to kick a girl where it hurts, huh?”

Helena tugged the rag from her back pocket and started wiping down the counter.

“Just calling it like I see it.”

“Well, don’t trouble yourself. ‘Cause I’ve got shit to deal with, ‘kay? I’m working things out. Cass understands that.”

“Yeah, sure she does,” Helena muttered under her breath.

Harley set her glass down and straightened up. She teetered slightly but somehow remained standing.

“You ever…fall in love?” she said.

Helena said nothing, Dinah’s face rising unbidden to her mind. It wasn’t _love_ she felt. It couldn’t be. They didn’t even know each other.

“And you just…you fall _so hard,_ ” Harley added with a burp. “You forget who you are, you know? It’s always you and…and him. Together. You’re never alone but you’re never…never _you_ anymore either. And sometimes…that’s a really – a really good thing. ‘Cause maybe you weren’t that great to begin with. But with him…” Harley shook her head and sighed. “With him, you’re everything.”

_Him._

“Can’t say that’s been my experience,” Helena said.

Harley slouched against the bar. “Lucky girl.” She groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes. Mascara smeared, making her look bruised.

“Do you…want to talk about it?” Helena said, haltingly. She had no experience with comforting someone else like this, especially over relationship problems.

“It’s just…my ex-boyfriend. J. We broke up – no, no, no, _I_ broke up with him, don’t let anyone tell you differently.”

“I’m…” Helena fumbled, “sorry to hear that.” She stifled a wince, hoping that was enough.

Harley mustered a shaky smile and raised her glass.

“I don’t need that sack of shit anyway,” she said and tossed the remnants of her drink back.

She thunked the glass on the counter.

“I promised,” she continued, words slurring and sliding into each other. “I’d make something of myself. Swore I would. Without him. So, I started over and I got a new city all my own. It’s been six months since I dumped that jackass and look at me now!”

She flung her arms wide, twirling in a circle. Then she lost her balance and nearly went sprawling to the floor.

Helena slipped her hand beneath the counter until her fingers brushed the call button for Renee. She pressed it three times, signaling _not an emergency, just a drunk._

“I think you’ve had enough to drink tonight,” Helena said.

Harley shook her head, waving off Helena’s concern. “I’m fine! I’m fine. In fact, I’m better than fine, I’m _fantastic!_ Best decision of my life to leave that son of a bitch in the gutter. I celebrate every day and I’m gonna keep celebrating because that’s what I deserve.” She drummed her hands on the counter. “Let’s break out the Jell-O shots.”

Helena didn’t move. Harley dropped onto a bar stool, whining.

“Why are you just standing there? Jell-O! Green apple is the best. No! Watermelon!”

“You need something besides alcohol in your system, Harley,” Helena replied.

Harley braced her elbows on the bar and leaned in closer, dropping her voice to a loud whisper.

“Okay, look. Here’s the thing about Jell-O shots. You do it with someone else and it’s twice as much fun.”

Before Helena could stop her, Harley reached over the counter and grabbed a handful of shot glasses. She lined up three glasses in front of Helena.

“You get red.”

She lined up three glasses in front of herself.

“And I’ll take blue. So, it turns your tongue all colorful, you know? Well, then…” She placed a finger to her lips. “Then you make-out and red and blue make purple! It’s like magic!”

Helena raised her eyebrows. When Helena took too long to reply, Harley turned to the person seated next to her in lime green fishnet stockings and an orange halter top.

“Hey, you wanna do Jell-O shots with me?” she said.

Renee finally appeared and lifted her chin in Helena’s direction.

“What’s up?” she said.

Helena nodded toward Harley.

“She hasn’t had a bite of solid food all night.”

“Renee!” Harley cheered. “You’re here! Can you help me convince the scrooge behind the bar to whip up some Jell-O shots for us?”

Renee glanced at Helena with a knowing look. “I’ll take care of her. Thanks for the heads up.”

Despite Harley’s protests, Renee hauled Harley out of the club. Helena’s thoughts returned to Dinah’s absence and she disappeared out the back door into the alley. Music thrummed through the pavement, accompanied by the cool night air brushing over Helena’s skin. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, put in Dinah’s number.

The dial button made her grind to a halt again.

Then she sucked in a breath and pressed it.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

A click and Dinah’s voice came over the phone, making Helena’s stomach flip.

_“You’ve reached Dinah Lance’s number…”_

Helena’s stomach dropped. Not Dinah. But she listened anyway.

_“I’m probably out having a good time right now so leave a message at the beep and I’ll get back to you.”_

Helena took in a breath to speak. But her throat went tight and her breath felt as if it had been punched out of her lungs.

She jabbed the end call button without saying a word.


End file.
